


Merry-Making

by pengke



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Life Experiences, Other, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 19:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengke/pseuds/pengke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is not gay.  An exploration of John's life experiences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry-Making

John is not gay.

Gay is…

…John lingering by the classroom door wanting to ask Mr. Edwards a question without the press of his schoolmates. Mr. Edwards is talking to Mr. Palmer, who teaches third form. They stand close, almost touching. Mr. Palmer reaches down and grasps Mr. Edwards’s hand, bringing it up to rest on his chest. Mr. Edwards lips curl and he leans forward towards Mr. Palmer. John can’t quite see what they are doing but his heart beats faster in his chest at the sudden knowledge that this scene is Private. When the two pull apart, their clasped hands linger as they separate.

Oh, thinks John.

O

…The slamming of doors and shouting.

“You’re no daughter of mine!”

Harry sits on the step crying; her face is red and blotchy. Her clothes lay scattered around her in the dirt. John silently begins picking up the glittering beads that used to be her favourite necklace.

O

…Lloyd sitting stone-faced in front of his locker surrounded by laughter. Justin is shirtless and covered in mud from the pitch. He prances around the shower lisping and flapping his wrists as he mimics one of their opponents. John wants to find it funny but he can’t because he is watching Lloyd, knowing what Lloyd is hiding. John sticks his head under the shower and lets the rush of the water drown out the words before they turn worse.

O

…John slouching in the swing with his feet dragging along the grass. Harry is skipping as she leads the pretty ginger girl across the park.

“John, this is Amanda,” she says proudly. She’s beaming and John thinks that Harry has never looked so beautiful.

Amanda giggles as she shakes John’s hand.

Later, when Harry kisses Amanda, John wrinkles his nose- because gross that’s his sister- but he’s happy for her.

O

…Sitting awkwardly in an unused classroom watching Harry flit back and forth between her new friends. The entire room is plastered with Gay Pride flags and posters; it looks a bit like a rainbow projectile vomited. It’s nice to see Harry so happy and enthusiastic, but the zeal with which everyone seems to be embracing their cause makes John feel uneasy. John is content to be ignored.

In walks the strangest person that John has ever seen in his life wearing a knee-length flowing gown and combat boots. He surveys the room with the air of a reigning monarch, immediately spotting John loitering in the corner. His kohl-rimmed eyes scan John with obvious disdain.

“Who let in the breeder?”

“That’s my brother,” mumbles Harry, but she won’t quite look at him. John realizes with a start that she’s ashamed of him.

John hunches his shoulders and keeps quiet.

O

…Coming home to find two men snogging on his couch. 

This is not what I expected when I asked Lloyd to move in, thinks John, as he stares open-mouthed at the spectacle. The two notice him and leap apart like scalded cats.

“John!” Lloyd’s face is bright red.

John glances at the other boy and then quickly averts his eyes. Lloyd’s boyfriend finishes stuffing himself back into his trousers and hurriedly leaves with a mumble of apologies. John stares at Lloyd in embarrassed silence.

“I’m sorry,” says Lloyd. “I’m so sorry. I’ll move out- I just- I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” says John, as he realizes that Lloyd is on the verge of panicking. “It’s fine. I mean, I would have rather not seen that, but I’m not angry, I promise.”

Lloyd looks confused.

“You’re not…disgusted?”

“Of course, not. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

“Oh.”

John begins to giggle.

“Oh my God, your face!” Lloyd cracks an uncertain smile. He pictures the scene from Lloyd’s point of view and begins laughing even harder. “My face! I am never sleeping on that couch again.”

Lloyd finally relaxes and begins to laugh, too.

O

…Sitting across from Harry as she hiccups into her glass. She has been out of school for six months and still hasn’t found work. The despair and disappointment is beginning to get to her.

“Have you considered-“begins John.

Harry waves her hand in his face and leans forward across the table.

“If you suggest growing out my hair or putting on a frilly dress, I shall punch you,” she threatens with as much gravitas as a drunk can manage.

John watches his sister sadly. This is as close as either of them has come to stating exactly why Harry can’t find a job. She is just too obviously butch for her prospective employers which is a shame because she’s brilliant.

“Have you considered asking your friends if they know of any openings?” he asks instead.

O

…Thick, callused fingers gripping his flesh firmly. His mouth is sour with alcohol and John can feel the unfamiliar burn of stubble against his cheek.

The next morning people whisper and stare. John promises himself never to get so pissed in public again.

O

…Glancing out the back window of the Land Rover and catching sight of Max and Pete sitting behind him pressed together so tightly that a piece of paper wouldn’t fit between them. John leans over and nudges Bill in the elbow. When Bill turns to look at him, he thrusts his head back indicating the pair. Bill discreetly looks behind him and when he faces forward again, they both smirk. Max and Pete are the worst kept secret in the company; everyone except for command knows they have been a couple since their third week in Afghanistan. Their relationship doesn’t have a hope in hell of lasting; Pete has a wife back home, but that’s how these things work sometimes.

John thinks about ribbing them a bit but decides against it. He’d have to shout to be heard and really who wants to deny them some comfort when God knows any one of them could die today. Instead, he runs his tongue against the grit of sand in his teeth and fingers the handle of his gun.

O

…Clara crying on John’s shoulder.

“I’m so tired of fighting,” she says. “We’re getting married. We should be happy.”

“I know,” he says. “Harry’s just stubborn. You know that.”

“I didn’t ask for a big wedding. All I wanted was the big poufy dress that I’ve been dreaming about since I was three and a nice church.”

John sighs and caresses Clara’s hair, wondering when he became the agony aunt.

“Harry feels that it’s wrong to celebrate a civil partnership. She doesn’t want to have a real wedding until she can have a real marriage.”

Personally, he thinks Harry is being stupid. Standing up for your beliefs shouldn’t involve hurting the person you love.

“I waited so long for this,” whispers Clara. “I don’t want to wait for something that may never happen.”

“I’ll talk to her,” promises John.

O

…Stepping out into the hot dessert air to meet the incoming patients and being bombarded with chilling, heart-breaking screams. By this point, he’s almost immune to screams of agony- it’s difficult to properly administer medication in the field- but these screams are different. John turns to face the source of the noise and sees Max with his face smeared in blood. Max is clutching something to his chest and it takes John a second to recognize Pete, or what’s left of him.

Max is still screaming.

John can’t do anything for Pete but he slides a needle into Max’s arm and releases a fast acting sedative.

They’ll go home together.

O

…Karen recoiling in disgust as her fingers brush his flaccid penis, a sharp change from the praise she’d been shouting just seconds prior. Hot shame rises up from the depth of John’s gut and he closes his eyes. He should have known better when it had taken him almost an hour and four pints to work up the courage to approach her, but he just wanted something anything to be normal, to pretend he wasn’t broken. Karen shoves him away.

Her face is twisted and lined with hatred and anger as she faces him. She’s shouting as she throws on her clothes but he can’t hear what she is saying over the ringing in his ears. It’s taking all of his concentration to keep breathing.

“Next time, find yourself a boyfriend,” she says as she leaves him alone in his pathetic, little bedsit. The sudden humiliating quiet is louder than her anger.

O

…The contempt in Sherlock’s voice as he flays Molly’s new boyfriend with his words. John can’t quite read the emotion he sees when Jim looks at him but it leaves a bitter taste at the back of his mouth.

O

…Standing beside Sherlock watching their client embrace her son. Sherlock’s gaze is softer than usual and he is wearing a rare, pleased smile.

“I’m so sorry, Mum,” says the teen with his face buried in his mother’s hair. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I love you,” she says. Her face is wet with tears but she’s smiling.

“Please come home,” she adds. She looks up and holds her hand out towards her son’s boyfriend. “Both of you.”

For once, Sherlock doesn’t scoff at the sentiment.

O

…Greg waiving them over from where John and Sherlock are bent over the mutilated body, conferring quietly. Sherlock sighs with annoyance but they stop their work.

“Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Detective Inspector Shaw,” says Greg, introducing them to the tall dark-skinned man to his right. “Elliot, these are Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson. They’re consulting on the case.”

“Have you determined a cause of death yet, Doctor?” asks Shaw, giving John a firm handshake.

“It appears that the fourth rib fractured and pierced the heart.”

“Dull,” says Sherlock. “Come, John, I wasn’t finished.”

Shaw looks startled when Sherlock places a possessive hand on John to tug him away. Shaw stares at the hand and then glances between Sherlock and John rapidly. John can almost see the conclusions forming in his head.

For the rest of the day, when Shaw has a question, he addresses only Sherlock. It’s almost like John became invisible once Shaw realized where John fits in their relationship.

.

.

.

Gay is not…

…John stumbling down the stairs still shaking from his nightmare to find Sherlock stretched out on the couch staring at the ceiling. He slowly turns his head to face John. Wordlessly, he twists and contorts his long limbs until he is sitting with one arm draped along the back of the couch.

John shuffles forward at the invitation and collapses on the couch with a grunt, pressing himself close against Sherlock’s side. His tense muscles relax at the rare sensation of close physical contact. Sherlock’s arm slides down until his fingers can tangle around John’s hand.

John rests his face against the cool silk of Sherlock’s dressing gown. His eyes drift shut and he falls asleep listening to the steady rhythm of Sherlock’s heartbeat.

This is just John and Sherlock.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was originally posted online during December 2012. I also wrote a companion commentary about what some of the scenes represent and my rationale behind the story along with other general thoughts on sexual identity and Sherlock. If interested, you can read it on livejournal [here](http://pengke-writing.livejournal.com/23123.html).


End file.
